


The Snow Has Fallen

by TheJaguar (Spiderboat)



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-10 03:08:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2008626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spiderboat/pseuds/TheJaguar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The snow has fallen," he told Waspheart. "Of course it has, you idio- Oh." And she understood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Snow Has Fallen

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Ailuronymy Writing Challenge. For more information, visit http://ailuronymy.tumblr.com

The first snow fell on RiverClan. It always did.

Twiteface padded across the marshy clearing into the den of reeds. This was Waspheart's den, and he needed to talk to her now.

“Waspheart,” he whispered.

The golden molly with the white chest came out at once, hushing him. “At least try to look conspicuous, you dolt,” she scolded.

“The snow has fallen,” he said.

“Well, of course it has, you- Oh.” She blinked and looked up at the gray clouds overhead, slowly, oh so slowly, dropping snowflakes to the earth. One fell onto her pink nose, melting from the heat of her body. “So it has.”

The brown tabby shook his fur uncomfortably, hating the cold. “Do you have what we need?”

“It will be ready tonight. I have sick cats to care for. The world doesn't stop for fallen snow.”

Twiteface growled in frustration, but nodded. “Fine. I can accept that.”

“Go now, unless you need to be cared for,” Waspheart said.

Twiteface was about to leave, he had even flicked his tail goodbye, but then he stopped. He looked back at Waspheart with wide, concerned eyes. “How is Frogpaw?”

Waspheart sighed. “She was beaten badly, Twiteface. I think she's in the paws of StarClan now. I've done all I can.”

Twiteface's expression contorted, pained. “If she dies, don't expect me to wait until the snow falls to take my revenge.”

“I don't. Go now,” the medicine cat said.

Twiteface left, and he was approached by a large white tom. “Twiteface,” he purred, grinning a lopsided grin. “My loyal deputy. How fare you this fine morning?”

“Well, Froststar,” Twiteface said, puffing out his chest. “But I am worried about the snow. The river will freeze soon, and there will be no fish to feed us.”

“It's a good thing there are fewer mouths to feed then,” Froststar replied. “See, Twiteface? All I do, I do for the good of RiverClan.”

_Like murder 'broken' kits, beat unruly apprentices to a pulp, and starve the elders?_ Twiteface thought, but his face gave away no thoughts of treason. “Yours is a cold, distant love,” he conceded, “but it is a love.”  _ For yourself and for your bully friends. _

“I knew you'd see it my way, dear brother. Now, why don't you organize the dawn and sunhigh patrols? I am off to train Reedpaw.”

Twiteface's ear twitched confusedly. “But, Reedpaw is Silverflower's apprentice, sir.”

“Oh, didn't you hear? It was the most tragic thing. Silverflower was found dead last night. They think it was a fox that killed her. Poor, silly girl, running out of camp at midnight.” But he didn't sound sad at all. In fact, he almost sounded glad that Silverflower was dead.

“What?!” Twiteface replied. “But – but she was so young! How could – why didn't – Who found her?”

“Rainfoot did.” Of course, one of Froststar's closest allies. “The poor chap, he was absolutely devastated. Kept saying something about kits, his and hers. Silly lad.”

_ Froststar killed his friend's mate just so she couldn't have his kits? Why? _

“On the bright side, for StarClan always gives us a bright side, Rainfoot will be able to focus more on his warrior duties now. He was slacking off, always hanging around that Silverflower.” Froststar chuckled. “Now, off you go, Twiteface.”

Twiteface turned away in horror. Froststar had killed Silverflower, he was sure of it. There hadn't been even the fainted smell of fox on the territory in over a season. And for what? Because he felt Rainfoot wasn't loyal enough to him.

“Twiteface,” a hoarse voice called to him. Twiteface looked up, and sure enough, it was Rainfoot. “Have you organized the dawn patrol yet?” He tried to look casual, but his yellow eyes were dull and tired, and his voice sounded wretched.

“Not yet,” Twiteface replied. “I'm so sorry. I... I just heard about Silverflower.”

Rainfoot visibly flinched, flattening his ears against his head. “It's not fair! It's just not fair!” he cried, quietly, so that Froststar would not hear him. “We didn't even have a vigil, he just – he just -!!”

“Just what?” Twiteface asked quietly, leaning his face in close.

“He... he just tossed her body into the river,” Rainfoot whispered. “No words, no oils, just... threw her in.”

_To get his stench off her, no doubt!_ Twiteface thought angrily.

“Twiteface, I... I know you're planning something,” Rainfoot whispered. “I've known, and I didn't want to tell Froststar until I knew what it was, so I haven't said anything to him, I swear on StarClan, but... I want nothing to do with him anymore.”

Could he be trusted? It had been Rainfoot who had beaten Frogpaw.

“Please,” Rainfoot begged. “If not for me, then please let me get revenge for Silverflower.”

Twiteface carefully considered it, then nodded slowly. “But if you even look at Froststar the wrong way, don't expect me to treat you kindly.”

Rainfoot nodded eagerly. “Thank you. Thank you, Twiteface. I'll do whatever you say.”

“Come on dawn patrol with me then,” Twiteface said in a loud voice, “and take Dunnockfang, Gullnose, and Flyfur with you. Bring Mallowpaw, too, while you're at it. Let's go see if we can find that fox and chase it out.”

He caught sight of Waspheart looking at him from the fresh-kill pile, eyeing him and Rainfoot quizzically. He nodded, gesturing to Rainfoot discreetly, and slowly, she returned the nod. She trotted up to the two, her white paws slapping against the muddy earth and turning brown.

“While you're out, boys,” she said, “why don't you find me some yew? I always need some for my store, you know.”

The look she gave Twiteface was grave.  _Bring me the deathberries or I'll have your rotten pelt and hang it above my den._

“Of course, Waspheart,” Twiteface said. “Anything for you.”

“Can I do anything, Waspheart?” Rainfoot asked eagerly.

She eyed him suspiciously, then, with an additional nod from Twiteface, asked, “Well, I could use some poppy buds, if you can find them. I hear Froststar's got a terrible ache in his jaw.”

Rainfoot's ears shot up in surprise, finally understanding the plan. But he nodded gravely, clenching his jaw. “Sure thing, I can do that.”

Waspheart grinned. “Excellent.”


End file.
